I'm Not the "Fun" Parent — And That's Okay

Before I had kids, I had pretty high expectations for the activities my future children and I were going to do together. I imagined myself whipping up delicious, Pinterest-worthy concoctions, picking out elaborate, super-chic matching outfits (that I’d hashtag #OOTD, of course) and getting YouTube messages from moms asking me how I managed to do it all. Unfortunately, I forgot a few things: I hate crafts, don’t dress up often, and I’m not one to stand out in a crowd.

One of the first real signs that I wasn’t destined to be the fun parent was when I volunteered for an organization as a mentor for a young mentee (similar to Big Brothers Big Sisters). My mentee was a six-year-old from a single-parent home whose siblings were also in the program. Three visits into our relationship, she told her mother that I was boring and she wanted to do activities more like the things her brothers did with their mentors. Apparently, the trips to the park and library readings that I had planned weren't her style.

As I watched her drive away, a part of my heart broke.

Although my mentee wasn’t my child, that experience hurt me. I wondered how I’d ever effectively be a fun mom to my son, who was five months old at the time, if I couldn’t find something enjoyable for a five-year-old to do. It confirmed what I already knew: No matter how much I tried to thoughtfully plan events, I had no hope of being traditionally fun.

Still, I soldiered on. I thought I had to be everything my son needed, and in the process, wore myself out trying to be the “fun” parent. But out of nowhere, it dawned on me that I wasn’t alone in my caretaker responsibilities: My husband was more than capable of filling that need in our household — and if I had been paying attention, I would have noticed he’d been doing it anyway.

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Their natural father-son dynamic made him the perfect "fun" parent. Long before I was comfortable standing by in panic as my spouse flung my son into the air, the foundation was already set.

As terrified as I was when the tosses evolved to arm swings, I knew it was important for them to have their own “thing.” My father wasn’t around much in my early childhood, and it was challenging to develop that kind of relationship as a teenager. Seeing the authentic development between them was strange but beautiful. It means a lot to me that my son won’t be forced to navigate the experience of cultivating a parent-child relationship as a pre-teen or teen.

Once I realized this, I started feeling noticeably better. After a long day of working from home with a two-year-old, it’s nice to know that my shift ends when the door opens. While my son and husband roughhouse, I get to take my first rest of the day. Keeping a young child entertained is a full-time job. And after a day of working and taking care of my son, I don’t have the energy.

The time they use to play is the time I use to take a bath or decompress after a long day. It's often the first time in an entire day that I get enough silence to hear myself think. When I accepted how much I could reduce my emotional workload by outsourcing, I was shocked — I hadn’t realized how much time I spent trying to be everything for my son and how stressed it was making me. I love him, but it isn’t healthy for him or for me to try to provide all his needs.

As mothers, we do more than enough stuff. We carry, birth, and tend to be responsible for the majority of our children's needs. I spend 24 hours a day with my son. I do the background work, like preparing his meals, styling his hair, and making sure he has all his basic needs taken care of. During that time, we practice learning with activity books, watch the occasional movie together, and just spend our time being together. It’s not nearly as fun as playing airplane, hide and seek, or giving tickles as he does with his dad, but it’s still meaningful.

It’s okay to pick and choose which responsibilities are important to you. We deserve a break, and I think we can ease some of our emotional load by stop putting pressure on ourselves to be fun all the time. Honestly? It was the best thing I’ve ever done.

This story is meant to reflect individual contributors' experiences and does not necessarily reflect What to Expect's point of view. This content is not intended to be used as medical advice, for diagnosis, or treatment.